This Dark, Comfortable Place

Maybe if I looked around, I’d notice that there were horrible things lurking in the corners – horrors without faces or names. Maybe if I looked around, I’d realise how cold and dank it is. Maybe if I looked around, I’d notice that this is no place to live; it is not doing me any good. It is doing harm.

However it is familiar.

Maybe if you were passing buy, you’d tell me that I’m not in a hole. You’d tell me that I just stepped off the kerb. I don’t even need to climb – only step up. You’d probably even extend your hand. You’re good like that. I do appreciate it.

However to really do this I need to see my dark, comfortable place for the dank hole that it is. I need to engage the muscles in my leg all by myself. I might reach out to your hand then – I might even eventually join you on the sunny side of the footpath – but it must be initiated within myself.

I wouldn’t know how to respond anyway. If it was someone else’s blog I probably wouldn’t; what do you say? However you always say something. Thank you. Although I’m not someone who writes for others, it’s so nice to always have you here. It’s very supportive.